


Shelter From the Cold

by Starkindler



Series: Alternate Pathways [1]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Animal Death (non-explicit), Bilbo/Dwalin pre-slash, Gen, M/M, hints of Thorin/Dwalin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-20
Updated: 2013-06-20
Packaged: 2017-12-15 15:28:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/851127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starkindler/pseuds/Starkindler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Company gets caught in an avalanche and it's up to Bilbo to secure shelter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shelter From the Cold

**Author's Note:**

> Set in an alternate universe where the Quest takes a different route to avoid Thranduil's Realm (I mean, really, if you were them, would you go through there?), and also because the Dwarves don't make it out in time not to get waylaid by Saruman and his dickishness. Also, the high passes in summer give me *nothing* to work with, as far as this prompt goes.
> 
> Written for [this prompt](http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/702.html?thread=256190#t256190) on the HKM.

Bilbo groaned as he came back to consciousness, eyes cracking open to peer at the bright blue sky above. His entire body was one big ache, and he grunted and groaned as he assessed himself for any major injuries, but luckily, while he seemed to be a mass of scrapes and bruises, nothing seemed to be broken.

 

He wasn't entirely certain what had happened. They had been on the lower passes of the Misty Mountains, just below where the snow had settled on the mountain. They were forty or so leagues north of Rivendell, and they had been doing fine, if a little cold, when a sudden rumble had erupted over their heads.

 

Next thing he knew, he was waking up to a blue sky and an achy body.

 

Sitting up, he looked around, searching for the others. He squeaked when he saw the others around him, unconscious, some of them half buried in the snow.

 

He got up with a wince and crawled over to the others one by one, making sure everyone was alive and breathing easily, and _not_ face first in the snow. They were all alive, much to his relief, but none of them awoke, and indeed, several of them seemed to be in worse condition than he was.

 

Biting his lip, he looked around. There were dark clouds in the distance, and he feared another snowfall would be coming all too soon, though it might very well be cold rain this far down, and he knew that he had to get his Dwarves to safety and care for them until they awoke.

 

He stood up, ignoring the pains that plagued his body, and began searching the area. He shed a few tears when he found several of their sweet little ponies nearby, all having perished in the fall or shortly after, and further searching showed the other ponies had not fared any better. Though Bilbo didn't think they had dropped (or rather, rolled and tumbled) very far, the ponies were far more delicate and less sturdy, and far too easily did their necks and legs break.

 

Their supplies, however, seemed to have made it down without severe damage... some of them at any rate. He would have to come back for them, after he got the Dwarves settled.

 

He continued his search, breathing a sigh of relief when he found a rather decent sized cave that wasn't too terribly far off, but far enough away from the dead ponies that he hoped any animals wouldn't be bothered with a cave full of Dwarves with an easier meal nearby. He pulled out his little letter opener, as Balin called it, and sent thanks up to Yavanna when it did not glow blue. The cave wasn't all that much, and while it was tall, it did not go back too far. It was big enough for the company to be comfortable for a day or two, however, and for a fire to be set up with ease.

 

Putting his blade away, he hurried back to his Dwarves. None of them had stirred, and so he thought for a moment on how he could get them to the cave. Then he remembered how one of the elder Bolgers had fallen and hurt his head on the bank of the Water. It had been a rock he'd knocked his head on, and he'd been out like a light. He had been very large, far rounder and heavier than Bombur, and they had used blankets to drag him away from the edge, lest he roll in and drown.

 

Bilbo searched the area for his pack, which had fallen off his back when the straps had snapped, it seemed, and he rolled out the blanket close to Thorin, who was nearest. Carefully, he removed Orcrist and its sheath and put it aside, and then he rolled Thorin until he was on the blanket, lying on his back.

 

With a grunt, Bilbo began tugging, dragging Thorin along the snow, occasionally stopping to toss some rocks out of the way. He was a little winded by the time he got Thorin into the cave, and then he frowned when he realized he had nothing to lay the Dwarf on except the cold stone.

 

Huffing slightly, he ran back to the other Dwarves and laid out another blanket, this time piling on the packs he found – most of them had been ripped from their owners on the way down, and some of them had been busted open, their contents scattered. He gathered all he could find, especially the bed rolls, and quickly dragged them back to the cave.

 

Dumping everything aside, piled up all the bedrolls, intending to lay them out side by side as he went along – they would just have to share, as he had not yet found all of them – and then moved Thorin onto the one he laid next to him. Then he draped the wet blanket he'd brought their packs on over a large rock near the entrance to the cave to dry, taking his own to transport the Dwarves.

 

Dwalin was next, and then Fíli and Kíli. He'd had to take a slight break, as his head was swimming a bit, and then he continued on with Dori, Bifur, Balin, and Óin, before he had to take another break. Next came Bombur – no easy feat for him all alone, though it had been made easier as by then the path he had constructed had begun to ice over slightly, and the blanket slid more easily, though his foothold was made more treacherous. After another brief rest, he dragged in Ori, Nori, Bofur, and finally, Glóin, who was the furthest from the cave.

 

Not bothering to stop, in spite of his pains and slight dizziness, he quickly threw what blankets they had, save the one he'd been using and the one drying, on top of the Dwarves and ran out to search the area again for anything else he could find. The clouds he'd seen when he first awoke were coming ever closer, and he could no longer afford the luxury of resting.

 

He dug around a bit and found most of their weaponry – poor Kíli's bow had been snapped in half, but he brought it anyway – and more of their packs. When he'd found all that he was going to find, he headed into the cave, and then back out again several times to get everything from the poor horses, which was all of their food and water, medicines, and cookware. A few of the skins had busted, but some were still intact, and their big cooking pot was a little dented, but would still work well.

 

After everything was moved into the cave, another trek had to be made to find wood. They all needed to dry out and warm up, and without wood, that was just not going to happen. He moved beyond the horses, where he'd seen the snow ease up substantially.

 

The avalanche had sent them careening down into the lowest parts of the valley of the mountains, where there was quite a bit of old forest. Sure enough, there was a patch of forest around the nearby bend – he had thought he'd seen treetops, though his eyes weren't focusing all that well to be certain – and plenty of old, dead trees. While the tops and mid-sections of the mountains had been seeing snowfall, not much seemed to have reached the lower areas yet, and so he was able to find an ample amount of dried wood and kindling under the thick cover of the trees.

 

He used Glóin's ax to cut the wood into more manageable pieces, and he made several hauls before the clouds loomed overhead. He stacked the wood and kindling deeper inside the cave, to protect it from the weather.

 

On his last haul, as his luck would have it – and truly, he did not know what he did to anger the Valar so, but he was mightily sorry for it – he was attacked by a wild boar. The bloody thing tried to gore him twice before he managed to bring the ax he was holding down on its back, and he cried a bit as he put it out of its misery.

 

The four and a half months he'd spent with the Dwarves had taught him many things, and one thing that Dwalin and Glóin had drilled into his skull was that if one had the opportunity to get food, one did not waste it. And so it was with a heavy heart that he skinned and cleaned his first wild boar all by himself – he had aided the others in cleaning previous kills, when they were teaching him survival skills – and dragged it back to the cave, lamenting the loss of his blanket, which was now bloody.

 

Upon return, seeing that the others still had not awoken, he began setting up camp, finding enough smaller rocks to set up the fire pit and proceeding to set up and light the fire at the mouth of the cave. When it was burning brightly, Bilbo went to gather snow nearby in their largest pot, and then once back inside the cave, he began piling up larger rocks, until they were about chest high on him. There was more than enough room for the smoke to exit, and hopefully the little wall would be enough to deter most animals while he was the only protection the Dwarves had, along with the fire. It was the best he could do, at any rate, until the Dwarves woke up.

 

He set up the metal spit Elrond had gifted them with, after theirs had been lost while being chased by the Orcs and Wargs. He shuddered as he thought of the Orcs. He dearly hoped that they managed to lose them, since they'd cut through much of Rivendell's lands to the North before leaving them.

 

After he set up the pot of snow to melt over the fire, he moved on to the Dwarves, going one by one and removing their coats and outer layers, so their clothes could dry by the fireside. It was no easy feat, as they were all dead weight, and he was quite winded when he was done.

 

A groan caught his attention awhile later, and he turned from his place by the fire, where he was sorting through the medical supplies they had left, to see Fíli moving about. He hurried over when Fíli tried to sit up and helped him. "Careful. We had a bad fall, and we were in the snow for some time."

 

"Kíli? Uncle?" Fíli murmured, pressing his hands to his head and groaning. "I feel like one of those Trolls sat on me."

 

"Kíli is next to you, and Thorin is down the way there," Bilbo murmured, urging Fíli to get up, and he helped him sit by the fire, wrapping one of the blankets around him.

 

He ladled out some of the heated water which now sat off to the side of the fire pit, while the boar roasted on the spit, and he cleaned Fíli's cuts and scrapes, while Fíli dozed a little, still woozy from the fall.

 

By the time he was finished with Fíli, Bombur and Nori had roused themselves, and he fussed over them, even as the two began working with the boar (Bombur) and sorting through what was left of their packs and supplies (Nori and Fíli). They took it with a good deal of grace.

 

There was a bit of a lull, and Bilbo helped Bombur set up a pan to catch the fat to make a bit of gravy, while Fíli and Nori worked on cleaning the cuts on the others' faces.

 

"How did we get in here?" Bombur asked when they gathered some of their potatoes and readied them for roasting.

 

Bilbo shrugged. "I woke up first, and knew we needed to get out of the snow and into shelter before dark, so I used a little trick I learned back home and got everyone in here. Then I found some wood and got nearly skewered by a boar. Thing was crankier than Thorin when Gandalf mentions the Elves."

 

Fíli looked at him with wide eyes. "You did all of this yourself?" he asked, looking around. "How long were we out?"

 

"You've been out a good few hours at least. Probably more, but I can't be sure exactly. Don't know how long we were in the snow," Bilbo murmured, rubbing at his head, which had begun to throb a bit.

 

Several groans and moans suddenly erupted from the unconscious Dwarves, and they saw Balin and Óin sitting up, looking at little out of sorts, and Kíli and Ori were both lying down but clearly awake and moving. Glóin and Dori also looked to be stirring.

 

"Help me?" Bilbo said to Fíli and Nori, and the three got the others up and situated by the fire for warmth while they worked on their injuries that hadn't been cleaned yet. After he was done with Óin, who insisted he was fine if a little bruised, he gladly gave over the treatment of injuries to him.

 

The others gradually regained consciousness, until Thorin, who was the last to wake, finally sat up and looked around groggily. "What has happened?"

 

"From what we have gotten from our burglar, we were caught in an avalanche, and have tumbled into the bottom of one of the valleys," Dwalin said, moving over to sit next to him while Óin checked Thorin over. "Our ponies did not make it. Everyone else managed to make it down with relatively few injuries, all things considered, which is rather miraculous. More than one of us is going to be black and blue all over come tomorrow."

 

"How did we get into a cave?" Thorin asked, looking around as he removed his remaining layers of clothing, until he was in naught but his smallclothes, so that Óin could reach the cuts and scrapes he could feel all over his body. There was wood piled high in the corner, a large boar roasting on the fire, a small wall erected at the cave entrance for protection, and their packs and supplies seemed to be mostly accounted for and separated for repacking. Dori and Ori were working on repairing pack straps and busted bags. Fíli and Kíli were helping Balin, who still seemed to be dizzier than the others. Bilbo and Bofur were helping Bombur with the food over by the fire. "Who did all of this?"

 

Dwalin chuckled. "Master Baggins. He woke up first, and is responsible for most of what you see here. The boar, he tells us, was entirely an accident. It tried to attack him when he was gathering wood. It was either the boar or him, and he won."

 

Thorin stared at Bilbo, seeing him in an entirely new light. "I do believe I was wrong about our Hobbit," he murmured. "He did as well as any Dwarf of this company could do...better, perhaps, than some."

 

"Aye. I do believe it is a good thing he came barreling after us that morning," Dwalin replied.

 

Thorin turned his head and watched, amused, as Dwalin gave their burglar and appreciative once over. As he had done the same more than a few times when he was certain no one was looking, he simply leaned closer and whispered, "He certainly is a lovely thing, isn't he?" He winced when Óin hit a particularly tender cut on his elbow.

 

"That he is," Dwalin said, a small smile playing upon his mouth. "I thought so from the moment he opened the door. Was standing there in his nightclothes and open robe, and so very surprised to find me there."

 

Thorin grimaced as Óin cleaned a large scrape on his leg. He did not want to look too closely at the condition of his breeches. "If you want him, you should do something about it."

 

"You mean like court him?" Dwalin asked, frowning at him. "I wouldn't even know where to begin with a Hobbit."

 

"From what I saw, they are a good, simple people, so I would stay away from the grand gestures," Thorin murmured. "Little things. Flowers. Helping him with his burdens. Making certain he stays warm at night. Perhaps give him finer pieces of the meats we catch. Teach him to use that dagger of his."

 

Dwalin mused on that for a few minutes, until Óin was done with Thorin. He reached over and wrapped the blanket around Thorin's body to stave off some of the chill. "And what about – " He stopped when he saw the smirk on Thorin's face and that particular gleam in his eye that was often present when they were younger, back before Erebor was taken. "All right then. I suppose I have a Hobbit to seduce then."

 

"Should be fun to watch," Thorin mused. He looked up as he noticed the topic of their discussion was headed their way, and he smiled slightly. "We owe you a debt of gratitude, Master Baggins. We would be in a most unfortunate position now had you not acted with haste and good sense."

 

Bilbo flushed a becoming shade of pink and smiled at him. "I just did what any of you would have done if you'd been the ones who woke first," Bilbo said. "How are your wounds? Óin fix you up?" he asked, looking between the two.

 

"Yes, we're quite well...as well as can be expected," Thorin said, frowning when he noticed Bilbo was swaying slightly.

 

"Are you all right, laddie?" Dwalin asked, picking up on Thorin's worry. "You look a bit unsteady there."  
  


"Oh, you know..." Bilbo said, his speech starting to slur a bit. "Been a long day." And then, to their shock, he swooned forward and fell face first into Thorin's lap.

 

"Bilbo!" Dwalin yelled, reaching over to gather him up and lay him between him and Thorin. He looked over at the others, who were staring, stunned. "Did anyone see to Master Baggins once they awoke?"

 

All of them shook their heads, some looking rather chagrined. "He seemed a little tired but well when I awoke," Nori said, walking over and staring down with concern.

 

"I asked him, but he waved me off, saying he was fine," Bombur added.

 

"Out of the way, laddie," Óin said, pushing Dwalin to the side. He and Thorin carefully stripped Bilbo out of his clothing and Óin winced. "He's in as bad condition as the rest of us, but no worse. I'd wager he's simply exhausted, from his injuries and all he has done in the last several hours."

 

"He's very chilled," Thorin murmured as he stroked the hair from Bilbo's forehead.

 

"Aye. I need to clean his wounds properly, and then he needs to sleep and be kept warm. Now move back a bit and let me do what I can for him."

 

~*~

 

Bilbo stirred, rubbing his face against his pillow. He frowned a bit when he realized it didn't feel as a pillow should...and indeed, where would he have gotten a pillow? Cracking open his eyes, he found himself faced with a chest that had tattoos buried underneath a rather ample covering of hair.

 

Pulling back, he saw Dwalin looking down at him, his gaze soft and warm. "Welcome back, Master Baggins," Dwalin murmured.

 

"I went somewhere?" he asked stupidly, trying to blink the sleepiness from his eyes.

 

"Aye, laddie, you passed out," Balin said, and he chuckled softly.

 

Bilbo looked up to see the others standing around them, looking down at him with relief. "Oh, dear."

 

"You exhausted yourself," Thorin said from behind him.

 

Bilbo turned to see Thorin sitting next to him, puffing on...was that his pipe? "Sorry about that."

 

"Nothing to be sorry for," Kíli said, nudging him with his foot and grinning at him.

 

"He's right," Dori said, nodding. "You just rest and let the rest of us worry about everything for now."

 

"Are you hungry, lad?" Bombur asked. "We have plenty of boar, and I saved you some of the rest I made."

 

His stomach made a loud return, and he grinned sheepishly when Dwalin and Thorin laughed. "I suppose I am," he said, making to get up, though he was a bit reluctant. It was warm nestled up against Dwalin, and he was more comfortable than he'd been in awhile.

 

"We'll make you a plate, Bilbo," Bofur said, grinning at him, and then he turned and followed his brother back to the fire, where they began reheating his portion.

 

Bilbo made to get up, and he suddenly realized something. "Where are my clothes?" he asked.

 

"They were damp and we needed to get to your injuries before they decided to fester," Thorin said, motioning over to the other side of the cave. "You've been out for several hours. They've been washed and are drying out, and then Dori and Ori will mend the tears."

 

"All right," Bilbo said, blushing a bit as he sat up and wrapped a blanket around him. To his embarrassment, he squeaked a bit when Dwalin picked him up and deposited him in his own lap and then scooted closer to Thorin. "I can sit by myself. Have been able to since I was seven-months-old, thank you."

 

"It's the middle of the night and quite cold outside," he said, sliding one arm around Bilbo's waist. "You'll be come too chilled if you sit alone."

 

When Bilbo made to protest again, Thorin fixed him with a look. "Let him warm you, Bilbo. Or would you prefer my lap?" The last was said with a sudden smirk.

 

Bilbo flushed even redder at the innuendo and huffed. "Very amusing." Anything else he might have said fell by the wayside when Bombur walked up with a plate full of meat and steaming potatoes covered in a delicious smelling gravy. There were also some carrots and some dumplings that had been cooked along with the gravy they had. "This looks wonderful, Bombur. Thank you."

 

Bombur flushed sweetly at the compliment and bowed slightly. "You're very welcome, Bilbo. Let me know if you want more. We have plenty."

 

Nodding, Bilbo ignored Dwalin and Thorin and got to work, plowing through his plate as only a Hobbit could. When he was done and contemplating licking the plate, Thorin took it from him and held it up. "Another plate full, if you will, Bombur."

 

Face heating once more, Bilbo said, "I don't need – "

 

Thorin hushed him with a finger to his mouth and Bilbo narrowly resisted the urge to bite it. "Every Dwarf here had two platefuls. Thanks to your kill and the saving of our supplies, we have more than enough to indulge in a good meal for once. And we'll be hunting and foraging in the wooded areas over the next few days, as we'll be staying here to recuperate, so we will be fine. Eat and regain your strength and your health."

 

"All right," Bilbo said once Thorin lowered his finger. He took the second plate, piled just as high, and ate at a more sedate pace, his hunger already somewhat sated. When he was done, he handed off his plate to Bombur and thanked him again.

 

"I need to...relieve myself," he said, suddenly feeling the effects of sleeping and being busy for hours and not taking the time to go.

 

"I'll escort you," Dwalin said, putting Bilbo onto his feet and walking him toward the entrance of the cave, where a small section had been lowered slightly to get out without much inconvenience. It had also been shored up more effectively, which made sense if they were to stay for a few days. "We've designated a spot over here."

 

Bilbo went to where Dwalin led him and did his business. It was dark, but the moonlight through the thin, scattered clouds allowed him to see fairly well. The area was wet from the rain that had fallen earlier, and he stooped to wash his hands in a puddle that had developed in a hole close to the cave's mouth.

 

When they came back inside, they saw that the other Dwarves had been busy, moving around the bedrolls into groupings to share, closer to the fire that was slowly dying out. Dwalin led him to a place where two bedrolls had been put together and urged him to sit down.

 

"We'll share," Dwalin said, and Bilbo found he couldn't argue when Dwalin used that tone. Not that he wanted to, because with the fire going out, it would get quite cold.

 

"I'll take first watch," Thorin said as the others started to settle down on their own bedrolls. "Bofur, you'll take second, and Fíli and Kíli, you'll take the third."

 

With that, Thorin moved over closer to the cave entrance, and Bilbo was left alone with Dwalin as the others laid down, some of them quickly starting to snore.

 

"Come on, Bilbo, down you go," Dwalin murmured, removing the blanket from Bilbo long enough to pull him against his body, and he draped the blanket over both of them.

 

With a sigh, Bilbo snuggled up against him, burying his face against Dwalin's chest, idly wondering at yet another strange turn his life had taken, to be curled up practically naked against a Dwarven warrior who was equally without clothing, in the middle of a mountain range after nearly being done in by an avalanche and a boar.

 

Didn't stop him from falling asleep easily, though, and when he awoke the next morning with Thorin plastered against his back, his arm and leg thrown over him and Dwalin as he snored softly against the back of Bilbo's head...well, it was just one more thing he could learn to live with.

 


End file.
